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BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS 


TO  THE 


GRADUATING  CLASSES 


OBERLIN  COLLEGE 

JUNE  28.  1891 


BY 


JAMES  MONROE 


OBERLIN  NEWS  PRESSES. 


BACCALAUREATE  ADDRESS. 


The  words  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  as  they  are  found  in  a 
part  of  the  eleventh  verse  of  the  fourth  chapter  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Philippians,  will  furnish  the  basis  of  the  address 
to  be  presented  on  this  occasion.  “For  I have  learned,  in 
whatsover  state  I am,  therewith,”  or  as  the  Revised  Version 
reads,  “therein,  to  be  content.”  The  context  shows  that 
this  declaration  of  the  apostle  had  reference  to  the  things 
which  he  had  been  called  upon  to  suffer, — especially  from 
the  lack  of  worldly  wealth, — rather  than  to  the  things  which 
he  had  been  called  upon  to  do.  It  does  not  seem  to  have 
occurred  to  him  that  a true  man  could  be  discontented  with 
any  amount  of  hard,  faithful,  self-denying  Christian  work. 
But  the  principle  announced, — that  of  contentment  in  every 
state, — is,  in  form,  broad  enough  to  include  the  whole  life 
of  the  man,  active  as  well  as  passive,  and  to  justify  the  use 
of  the  text  as  suitable  to  my  subject,  which  is,  “ Contentment 
in  the  performance  of  common  and  present  duties.” 

This  age  has  often  and  justly  been  called  a restless  age; 
and  perhaps  there  is  no  country  in  the  world  to  whose  in- 
habitants the  remark  is  so  applicable  as  to  those  of  the 
United  States.  Now  so  far  as  this  charge  of  restlessness 
implies  that  there  are  a multitude  of  people  in  this  age  who 
will  never  be  content  until  the  highest  and  best  things  are 
done  and  achieved,  it  implies  something  wholly  commenda- 
ble. So  far  as  it  means  that  there  are  thousands  of  men 
and  women,  in  this  and  other  lands,  who  will  take  no  rest 
and  give  us  no  rest  until,  in  all  men’s  souls,  there  shall  exist 
hearty  consecration  to  the  service  of  God  and  the  welfare  of 
man,  it  means  something  that  we  all  thank  God  for  and 


4 


pray  may  never  cease  until  its  great  ends  are  accomplished. 
There  is  such  a thing  as  a divine  unrest.  There  is  such  a 
thing, — as  President  Finney  would  put  it, — as  a holy  dis- 
satisfaction. God  has  an  army  of  workers  who  will  have  no 
peace,  and  give  us  no  peace,  until  all  ungodliness,  all  misan- 
thropy, all  self-seeking,  all  uncharitableness,  all  spiritual 
apathy,  all  narrowness,  all  coldness,  all  baseness,  all  barren- 
ness, all  littleness  of  mind, — what  De  Quincey  calls  parvan- 
imity, — shall  be  put  out  of  their  own  hearts  and  out  of  our 
hearts.  Let  us  cherish  such  people.  They  are  wholesome 
neighbors  for  us  to  have. 

But  in  calling  your  attention  to  the  restlessness  of  the 
age,  I had  in  mind  something  quite  different  from  this, — 
indeed,  the  very  opposite  of  it.  I had  reference  to  the  wide- 
spread and  often  bitter  discontent  which  men  indulge  in 
regard  to  the  place  and  the  work  which  Divine  Providence 
has  assigned  to  them.  They  are  dissatisfied  with  the  degree 
of  worldly  advantage  which  they  possess.  They  have 
neither  the  position  nor  the  income  which  they  desire.  They 
have  duties  in  the  discharge  of  which  they  might  be  useful; 
but  these  duties  are  lowly  and  bring  but  a moderate  com- 
pensation and  so  are  uninteresting.  They  are  eager  for 
larger  recognition  and  greater  emolument.  They  wish  to 
do  great  things  at  once  and  to  be  talked  about  and  courted 
and  rewarded.  But  these  results  do  not  follow.  They  have 
great  things  to  offer  to  the  world,  but  the  world  has  little  to 
give  to  them.  They  soon  fall  into  a condition  which  I 
think  one  of  the  saddest  in  all  human  experience, — that  of 
unappreciated  merit, — and  become  restless,  complaining  and 
soured. 

This  discontented  state  of  mind  in  the  performance  of 
every  day  duties  might  be  variously  illustrated. 

Let  us  take  the  case  of  a young  lawyer.  Let  us  suppose 
that  one  of  our  own  alumni  has  gone  forth  from  us,  has 
studied  law  and  has  settled  in  some  town  in  the  west.  After 


5 


a time  he  returns  to  visit  us.  We  are  glad  to  see  him,  as  we 
are  always  glad  to  see  old  pupils.  We  inquire  about  his  pros- 
perity in  his  profession.  He  answers  “that  he  has  not  done 
very  well — that  he  doesn’t  think  he  is  quite  appreciated  in 
the  town  where  he  resides — that  he  has  not  had  much  prac- 
tice as  yet.”  We  reply,  “Well,  if  you  have  not  had  many 
cases,  you  have  doubtless  done  your  best  with  those  that 
you  have  had.”  He  rejoins,  “I  can’t  quite  say  that  I have; 
my  causes  have  not  been  of  a kind  to  furnish  inspiration.” 
“Then  you  must  have  had  a great  deal  of  leisure,  and  you 
have  doubtless  improved  that  to  extend  your  knowledge  of 
the  law  and  to  devote  to  that  noble  science  much  hard  and 
thorough  study.”  No,  because  he  had  not  had  the  kind  of 
business  to  excite  interest  and  to  draw  out  his  powers.  He 
is  so  constituted  that  to  do  great  things  he  must  have  great 
opportunities.  “ But  you  have,  at  least,  taken  a stand  for 
the  Christian  faith  and  joined  a Christian  church.?”  He  has 
not,  because  he  has  not  felt  settled.  In  fact  he  has  not  been 
in  a condition  to  enjoy  religion.  Has  he  not  done  some- 
thing for  the  cause  of  temperance.?  O,  no!  That  cause  is 
so  unpopular  in  his  town  that  to  engage  in  it  would  be  fatal 
to  his  success.  Has  he  taught  a class  in  a Sunday  school.? 
He  is  sorry  to  say  that  he  has  not.  His  mind  has  been  so 
much  occupied  with  great  plans  for  the  future  that  he  could 
not  quite  get  down  to  that.  Has  he  visited  the  poor  and 
unfortunate,  and  been  active  in  aiding  them.?  No;  he  had 
no  desire  to  make  their  acquaintance  for  they  could  furnish 
him  no  profitable  litigation.  In  fine,  he  has  given  his  whole 
thought  to  worldly  success  and  has  got  very  little  of  it.  The 
failure  of  such  a young  lawyer  would  seem  to  be  nearly  self- 
explanatory. 

I trust  that  such  a case  as  I have  described  is  exceptional, 
and,  of  course,  I do  not  claim  that  there  has  been  any  case 
precisely  like  it  in  all  its  details.  But  I contend  that  there 
have  been  many  cases  so  much  like  it,  that,  if  the  parties 


6 


concerned  were  present  to-day,  they  would  have  a shrewd 
suspicion  that  their  experience  had  contributed  to  the  mate- 
rials for  this  discourse. 

Again,  take  the  case  of  a young  graduate  who  proposes 
to  engage  in  teaching.  He  desires  to  obtain  at  once  a good 
place  in  some  college  or,  at  least,  some  important  and 
profitable  position.  But  it  so  happens  that  the  only  thing 
which  offers  is  a very  common  school  in  a country  place. 
He  accepts  it  because  he  must  live,  but  is  restless  and  dis- 
contented. He  brings  neither  heart  nor  mind  to  the  work 
which  Providence  has  given  him.  Both  parents  and  children 
soon  discover  that  he  takes  no  satisfaction  in  his  duties.  In 
moments  of  impatience,  he  will  perhaps  say  this  in  their 
presence.  The  dissatisfaction  becomes  mutual,  and  he  may 
not  even  teach  out  the  term  for  which  he  was  employed. 
He  attributes  his  failure  to  the  fact  that  neither  the  place 
nor  the  emolument  is  worthy  of  his  powers.  His  employers 
attribute  it  to  his  lack  of  good  sense  and  want  of  interest  in 
his  labors. 

I have  even  heard  of  restless  and  disappointed  clergymen. 
Let  us  hope  that  they  are  not  numerous.  It  is  but  simple 
justice  to  the  clerical  profession  to  admit  that,  in  the  very 
act  of  deciding  to  follow  it,  a young  man  must  renounce 
much  of  worldly  motive  and  worldly  expectation.  I think 
too  you  will  agree  with  me  that  clergymen,  as  a class,  are  as 
cheerful  and  hearty  a set  of  workers  as  can  be  found.  But, 
self-contradictory  as  it  may  sound,  there  are  some  discon- 
tented and  complaining  ministers  of  the  gospel — men,  the 
history  of  whose  grievances,  if  you  pass  a day  with  them, 
will  consume  much  of  the  time.  They  have  fallen  upon  evil 
days,  and  depraved  persons  have  taken  pleasure  in  thwart- 
ing their  efforts  to  obtain  places  and  salaries  worthy  of  their 
powers.  It  is  a pitiful  sight  to  see  a clergyman  pass  his  life 
in  a quarrel  with  the  world  for  not  giving  him  more  of  its 
temparal  advantages. 


7 


Perhaps  the  restlessness  of  which  I have  spoken  is  more 
general  and  more  feverish  in  business  and  in  politics  than 
it  is  in  the  professions.  But  these  occupations  time  will  not 
permit  me  to  include  in  the  discussion. 

What  I have  said  thus  far  presumably  relates  to  graduates 
or  to  persons  of  corresponding  maturity  of  life.  But  under- 
graduates are  sometimes  seized  with  this  spirit  of  unrest. 
They  sometimes  make  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  the  ob- 
ject of  a college  course  is  not  to  lay  a common  foundation 
for  the  subsequent  study  and  practice  of  all  the  professions, 
but  that  its  object  is  to  enable  young  men  to  enter,  in  some 
measure,  at  once,  upon  the  professions  or  other  occupations 
of  later  manhood.  The  thought  seems  to  be,  why  waste 
time  on  college  text-books,  when  you  ought  to  be  grappling 
with  the  practical  affairs  of  life } Thus  the  undergraduate 
sometimes  becomes  impatient  of  present  and  common  du- 
ties. The  quiet  and  patient  mastery  of  Latin  or  Greek  or 
Mathematics  or  Philosophy  and,  along  with  this,  the  mas- 
tery and  effective  use  of  one’s  own  powers,  seem  like  a dull 
business  compared  with  the  applause  to  be  acquired  in  en- 
gaging in  certain  kinds  of  semi-professional  or  outside  work. 
Is  not  present  reputation  more  than  an  adequate  compensa- 
tion for  impaired  scholarship  ? And  thus  the  college  stu- 
dent would  bring  forth  the  top-stone  with  shoutings,  before 
the  foundation  is  securely  laid.  I take  pleasure  in  adding, 
however,  that  I think  the  restless  spirit  which  sometimes 
appears  among  undergraduates,  is  due  not  so  much  to  de- 
liberate self-seeking  as  to  a kind  of  contagious  fashion  which 
'spreads  from  college  to  college,  and  in  the  observance  of 
which  each  college  must,  of  course,  be  included.  May  we 
not  hope  that  this  fashion,  like  others,  will  soon  pass  away 
and  will  be  succeeded  by  the  fashion  of  a noble  devotion  to 
Christian  scholarship  } I have  sometimes  thought  that  all 
that  is  needed  to  accomplish  this,  is  that  some  influential 
college  should  take  the  lead  in  it.  Why  will  not  Oberlin  be 


8 


the  pioneer  in  this  work  ? Why  should  we  not,  from  this 
time  onward,  take  a just  pride  in  accurate  and  thorough 
scholarship  ? Would  it  not  delight  our  friends  everywhere 
to  hear  that  we  had  men  in  Oberlin  who  could  beat  Ann 
Arbor,  beat  Cornell,  beat  all  the  colleges  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  not  perhaps  in  base  ball,  but  in  Greek  scholarship 
and  in  original  work  in  Science  ? Let  us  have  Oberlin  men 
and  women  who  will  stand  up  and,  at  sight,  render  the  im- 
mortal dialogues  of  the  greatest  master  of  the  noblest  tongue 
of  antiquity — the  language  in  which  philosophy  and  the 
Gospel  have  come  to  us  from  the  past — out  of  that  language 
into  the  most  vigorous  language  of  modern  times,  with  such 
delicacy,  precision,  clearness  and  racy  force,  that  the  learned 
hearer  shall  be  in  doubt  whether  most  to  admire  the  Greek 
dress  or  the  English.  Let  us  have  Oberlin  men  and  women 
with  such  trained  powers  of  observation  and  analysis  and 
with  such  an  inspired  sympathy  with  the  divine  order  and 
the  divine  methods  of  classification  that  they  shall  add  new 
conquests  to  the  domain  of  science.  But  all  this  requires 
much  patient  performance  of  present  and  common  duties 
and  more  self-denial  than  some  of  our  brightest  men  have 
always  been  able  to  exercise  in  refraining  from  pursuits 
which  seem  for  the  moment  brilliant  and  attractive,  but 
which  are  not  favorable  to  the  prosy  work  necessary  to  ac- 
curate scholarship.  I feel,  however,  that  this  subject  is  bet- 
ter suited  for  a Thursday  lecture  than  for  the  present  occa- 
sion; and,  besides,  I am  not  sure  that  I have  the  courage  to 
say  all  that  ought  to  be  said  in  regard  to  it. 

I now  ask  your  attention  to  some  of  the  evils  which  ac- 
company the  restless  and  discontented  state  of  mind  which 
I have  described. 

I.  In  the  first  place,  this  state  of  mind  proposes  to  the 
subject  of  it  a wholly  false  end  of  life.  The  end  which  it 
proposes  is  temporal  and  worldly  advantage  for  self.  The 
end  which  God  proposes  is  the  highest  welfare  of  all  his 


9 


creatures.  That  worldly  good  which  God  designs  to  be  a 
mere  refreshment  by  the  way,  the  restless  man  makes  the 
great  object  of  his  journey.  To  realize  the  true  end  of  life, 
a man  must  be  in  harmony  with  the  plans  of  God,  must  be 
a sympathetic  part  of  those  plans  and  must  have  a heart  set 
upon  their  success.  But  a selfish  discontent  puts  a man  out 
of  adjustment  with  the  divine  plan.  It  puts  him  in  wrong 
relations  to  God  and  human  welfare  and  the  attributes  of 
his  own  being  and  the  very  forces  of  nature.  He  must  fight 
against  the  stars  in  their  courses.  It  fills  his  life  with  un- 
wholesome antagonisms.  In  the  midst  of  a universe  where 
all  the  primal  forces  of  mind  and  matter  are  working  towards 
God  and  towards  the  common  happiness,  his  face  is  set  the 
other  way.  His  position  is  one  of  danger — dangerous  to 
others,  certainly  destructive  to  himself.  He  is  like  the  man 
who,  regardless  of  the  time  table  and  the  manager’s  orders, 
starts  out  his  car  in  the  wrong  direction  along  a single  track 
where  there  is  no  switch  and  no  turnout,  and  where  all  the 
fast  and  heavy  trains  are  coming  on  to  meet  him.  He  may 
throw  others  from  the  track,  but  only  annihilation  can  be  in 
store  for  him. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  this  restless  state  of  mind  of  which 
I have  spoken  deludes  its  victims  with  false  promises.  The 
wealth,  the  fame,  the  worldly  position  which  are  promised, 
are  not  realized.  The  immense  majority  of  those  who  strive 
for  great  worldly  advantage  are,  of  course,  disappointed.  In 
all  departments  of  activity,  the  great  successes,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  are  few.  The  number  of  business  men 
who  become  millionaires — of  clergymen  who  secure  city 
pulpits  with  salaries  of  ten  thousand  dollars  a year — of  law- 
yers who  receive  fifty  thousand  dollar  fees  for  the  manage- 
ment of  a case,  or  become  justices  of  the  Supreme  Court — 
of  physicians  who  can  charge  a hundred  dollars  for  a half 
hour’s  conversation  with  a patient,  is  so  small  in  comparison 
with  the  whole  body  of  men  engaged  in  these  vocations, 


10 


that,  for  all  practical  purposes,  it  may  as  well  be  left  out  of 
the  account.  It  is  entirely  safe  for  you  and  me  to  assume 
that  we  shall  never  achieve  any  such  success  nor  anything 
like  it.  And  yet,  these  are  the  prizes  that  kindle  the  aspir- 
ations of  ambitious  young  men. 

It  has  been  often  stated,  and  never,  that  I am  aware  of, 
denied,  that  a majority  of  those  engaged  in  business  in  our 
cities,  at  some  time  become  bankrupt. 

Last  summer,  I learned  something  about  the  salaries  of 
ministers.  I visited  an  old  historic  town  of  the  state  of 
Connecticut.  Its  Congregational  church  has  a noble  his- 
tory. It  has  at  present  an  excellent  and  useful  pastor,  who 
receives  an  annual  salary  of  six  hundred  dollars  and  the  use 
of  a modest  parsonage.  In  an  adjoining  parish,  where 
there  is  no  parsonage,  they  pay  their  minister  five  hundred 
dollars,  and  in  one  a little  more  remote,  four  hundred  dol- 
lars. As  I have  spoken  of  these  ministers,  let  me  add,  in 
justice  to  them,  that  I met  them  all  and  found  them  to  be 
educated  Christian  gentlemen.  I could  not  discover  that 
either  of  them  thought  that  he  was  abused  or  unappreciated. 

I suggested  to  the  man  of  four  hundred  dollars  that  his  sal- 
ary seemed  rather  low.  He  answered  cheerfully,  “Yes,  but 
I have  a small  glebe  which  helps  me  out.”  My  private 
opinion  is  that  each  of  these  men  is  happier  than  the  Van- 
derbilts. I believe  that  a majority  of  the  Congregational 
pastors  of  New  England  receive  not  more  than  six  hundred 
dollars  per  annum.  Now  six  hundred  dollars  is  a respecta- 
ble sum  of  money,  and  one  upon  which  a family  may  be 
brought  up  decently  in  the  fear  of  God.  But  I suppose 
that  it  is  hardly  a sum  which  Satan  would  suggest  as  an 
object  of  worldly  ambition.  It  would  seem  that  unless  our 
colleges  and  seminaries  can  turn  out  men  who  can  support 
a family  on  six  hundred  dollars,  a majority  of  the  New 
England  churches  and  perhaps  of  all  the  churches  of  our 
denomination,  will  have  to  go  without  pastors. 


I 


You  may  say,  if  the  prospect  is  so  discouraging  in  the 
ministry,  we  will  enter  the  profession  of  law.  But  the  pros- 
pect is  still  worse  there.  An  average  man  will  consent  to  do 
without  a law-suit  sooner  than  without  public  worship.  The 
papers  often  speak  of  the  multitude  of  young  lawyers  in  our 
cities  who  can  hardly  pay  for  their  board  and  lodging.  I 
have  sometimes  thought  that  if  a skillful  writer  would  prepare 
a full  account  of  the  distresses  of  half-starved  young  lawyers 
in  the  city  of  New  York,  it  would  be  as  pathetic  as  Helen 
Campbell’s  account  of  the  distresses  of  the  needle-women 
in  the  same  city. 

Do  not  misunderstand  me.  I fully  believe  that  a young 
man  of  good  principles  and  fair  ability  who  chooses  an  oc- 
cupation suited  to  his  taste  and  talent,  may  reasonably  ex- 
pect a comfortable  support  for  himself  and  his  family,  and 
the  friendly  appreciation  of  his  fellow  men.  But  to  expect 
more  than  this  is  unwise,  and  to  set  his  heart  upon  some 
great  worldly  achievement,  is  simply  madness.  Is  it  not 
safe  to  assume  that  there  are  at  least  half  a million  of  young 
men  in  our  country  who  intend  to  be  United  States  Sena- 
tors ? Now  when  we  remember  that  there  are  but  eighty- 
eight  United  States  Senators  in  all,  and  that  each  of  them  is 
elected  for  a term  of  six  years,  we  can  see  how  few  of  the 
five  hundred  thousand  will  ever  realize  their  dream.  In 
comparison  with  this,  the  chance  for  a prize  in  the  Louisi- 
ana Lottery,  might  almost  be  called  a probability.  There 
is  some  story  about  a weak-minded  man  in  Illinois  who  went 
to  splitting  rails  in  the  expectation  that  it  would  make  him 
President  of  the  United  States.  We  smile  at  this;  but  this 
man  was  only  a good  type  of  those  who  enter  any  occupa- 
tion risking  all  upon  the  hope  of  obtaining  some  one  of 
what  are  called  the  great  prizes  of  life.  Let  us  disabuse  our 
minds  on  this  point.  Our  youth  have  sometimes  been 
badly  taught.  I remember  when  a Connecticut  school-mas- 
ter used  to  say  to  his  boys  that  any  one  of  them  could  be 


12 


president  of  the  United  States.  He  might  have  added  that 
he  not  only  could  be,  but  was  pretty  certain  to  be,  whenever 
he  should  get  a majority  of  the  electoral  votes.  No,  the 
promises  of  brilliant  wordly  success  which  a restless  ambi- 
tion makes  to  the  young  heart,  are  false  promises — they 
are  a delusion  and  a snare. 

Again,  this  discontent  of  mind  is  accompanied  with  a 
fearful  waste  of  noble  and  precious  gifts.  It  wastes  youth 
and  manhood  and  time  and  power.  It  wastes  these  grand 
resources  upon  unworthy  objects — wastes  them  in  restless 
striving — wastes  them  in  disappointment — wastes  them  in 
repining.  What  a sad  spectacle  of  weakened  and  crippled 
manhood  does  this  moral  condition  furnish  ! What  an  ob- 
ject of  mingled  pity  and  contempt  does  that  man  become 
who,  instead  of  pressing  on,  in  noble  self-forgetfulness, 
towards  some  high  end,  runs  about  nursing  his  own  reputa- 
tion and  listening  at  all  doors  to  learn  what  may  be  said  of 
him.  In  economics  it  is  now  recognized  as  one  of  the  most 
difficult  problems,  how  to  prevent  a waste  of  force.  But 
who  shall  solve  this  higher  and  more  difficult  problem,  how 
to  stop  the  waste  of  force  caused  by  restless  discontent } 
May  God  grant  that  those  splendid  endowments  which  he 
gave  to  men  to  make  of  this  world  a Paradise,  shall  no 
longer  be  prostituted  to  childish  and  unworthy  ends. 

Once  more,  this  restless  ambition  defeats  its  own  object. 
The  subject  of  it  is  making  an  illegitimate  use  of  his  powers. 
He  knows  this,  and  the  knowledge  weakens  him.  He  knows 
that  he  is  going  wrong,  and  it  unnerves  him.  Energy  mis- 
directed is  energy  diminished.  He  cannot  do  his  best.  His 
mind  is  biased  by  morbid  feeling  and  partiality  for  self,  and 
his  judgment  is  at  fault.  He  can  no  longer  do  the  shrewd 
thing  at  the  right  moment.  Having  ceased  to  be  wise,  he 
cannot  even  be  politic.  He  is  constantly  lamenting  his  mis- 
takes of  the  past.  And  devotion  to  self-advancement  awak- 
ens opposition.  It  gives  notice  to  all  competitors  that  the 


13 


man  will  get  as  much  as  possible  for  himself  and  leave  as 
little  as  possible  for  them.  In  the  competitive  struggle  for 
worldly  advantage,  what  form  of  antagonism  would  such  a 
revelation  of  character  fail  to  develope  ? He  may  strive  to 
conceal  from  others  the  controlling  motive  of  his  life,  but  it 
will  be  in  vain.  Opinion  of  him  is  forming  every  day  and 
soon  becomes  quite  fixed.  Even  men  who  have  no  com- 
peting interest  will  take  a certain  satisfaction  in  seeing  such 
a man  defeated.  You  hear  it  said,  “he  thinks  too  much  of 
himself,  he  needs  taking  down.”  In  extreme  cases  men 
even  like  to  tease  and  worry  him.  It  is  quite  possible  to 
try  too  hard  to  promote  one’s  own  interest.  The  history  of 
our  country  furnishes  a long  list  of  candidates  for  the  Pres- 
idency who  are  believed  to  have  failed  because  they  made  it 
too  much  the  object  of  their  lives  to  obtain  it.  It  is  with 
regret  that  one  sees  upon  this  list  the  great  name  of  Clay 
and  the  greater  name  of  Webster.  Was  ever  a greater  con- 
cession made  to  win  political  favor  than  Webster’s  seventh 
of  March  speech  with  its  defence  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  ? 
The  price  which  he  was  willing  to  pay  for  the  Presidency 
seemed  wrung  in  blood  from  the  great  heart  of  the  man,  but 
it  did  not  bring  the  expected  equivalent.  To  have  given 
all,  and  to  have  got  nothing!  It  broke  his  heart.  Upon 
the  monument  of  many  of  our  public  men  the  text  might  be 
appropriately  engraved,  “He  that  would  save  his  life  shall 
lose  it.”  Self-seeking  nurses  self-consciousness.  The  man 
never  loses  himself  in  his  work,  is  never  free  from  the  thought 
of  his  own  relations  to  everything  about  him.  This  self- 
consciousness,  besides  making  his  life  thoroughly  uncom- 
fortable, is  most  unfavorable  to  the  attainment  of  his  object, 
as  we  notice  in  oratory  and  writing.  Vanity  lurking  in  the 
sentence  and  quavering  in  the  modulations,  destroys  the 
true  effect.  Self-seeking  is  as  unwise  in  policy  as  it  is  un- 
sound in  morals. 

After  what  has  been  said,  I need  scarcely  add  that  a state 


14 


of  discontent  in  the  performance  of  duty,  is  fatal  to  the  hap- 
piness of  him  who  indulges  it.  If  it  is  destructive  to  the 
happiness  of  a rational  being  that  he  should  propose  to  him- 
self false  instead  of  true  ends  of  life — that  he  should  be  con- 
stantly deluded  by  false  promises — that  his  fairest  gifts  of 
mind  and  body  should  be  wasted  upon  unworthy  aims — that 
his  course  should  be  such  as  to  defeat  the  very  objects  upon 
which  his  heart  is  set — then  the  restless  and  discontented 
man  must  be  miserable;  for,  as  we  have  seen,  all  these  evils 
are  the  natural  fruit  of  his  state  of  heart.  Indeed,  discon- 
tent in  the  performance  of  common  and  present  duties  im- 
plies unhappiness,  almost  as  a matter  of  definition. 

But  it  is  time  to  pass  from  the  consideration  of  this  state 
of  mind  to  a view  of  its  opposite,  which  the  discussion  of 
this  side  of  the  question  may  have  prepared  us  the  better  to 
appreciate.  It  is  time  to  consider  directly  what  was  an- 
nounced as  the  subject  of  the  day — “Contentment  in  the 
performance  of  common  and  present  duties.”  The  change 
to  this  pleasanter  field  of  thought  will,  I am  sure,  be  a relief 
and  a refreshment. 

Consider  for  a moment  the  essential  excellence  and  moral 
elevation  of  this  kind  of  life. 

If  I were  asked  to  point  you  to  the  noblest  exhibition  of 
human  character,  I should  not  point  you  to  the  man  who 
goes  to  the  stake  and  perishes  in  the  flames  as  an  expres- 
sion of  his  unshaken  attachment  to  the  cause  of  Christ;  and 
yet  I will  yield  to  no  man  in  my  reverence  for  the  memory 
of  the  martyrs.  I should  not  point  you  to  the  man  who,  in 
the  front  of  battle,  imperils  or  loses  his  life  in  defense  of 
country,  of  liberty,  and  of  cherished  institutions;  and  yet, 
in  the  national  House  of  Representatives,  I often  put  on 
record  my  affirmative  vote,  to  bestow  honors  or  pensions 
upon  such  men  or  their  children.  I should  not  point  you  to 
those  who  have  hazarded  their  lives  to  rescue  others  from 
fire  and  flood;  and  yet,  grateful  nations  have  granted  them 


15 


crosses  of  honor,  and  they  have  had  honorable  mention  in 
court  gazettes.  But  I should  rather  point  you  to  the  man 
who,  immersed  in  duties  not  to  his  taste,  and  the  perform- 
ance of  which  is  not  comfortable  for  him,  yet  faithfully  and 
cheerfully  performs  them,  day  after  day,  month  after  month 
and,  if  need  be,  year  after  year,  without  irritation  and  with- 
out repining,  with  no  special  enthusiasm  in  himself,  and  no 
applause  from  the  world  to  sustain  him,  attracting  no  atten- 
tion, producing  no  sensation,  receiving  perhaps  not  even  a 
word  of  cheer  from  those  about  him,  and  governed  only  by 
a sweet,  strong  and  unfailing  purpose  to  be  right  and  do 
right,  to  work  out  the  will  of  God  and  to  bless  those  about 
him.  This  is  my  hero,  or  perhaps  I should  say,  my  heroine; 
for  it  occurs  to  me  that,  in  our  own  town,  woman  has  fur- 
nished examples  of  this  exalted  character.  We  have  some- 
times known  a widowed  mother,  who,  left  without  property 
and  with  a family  of  children,  has  come  to  Oberlin  with  the 
purpose  of  educating  them  for  Christian  service.  To  sup- 
port her  family  she  rents  a house,  and  fills  it  with  boarders. 
With  no  word  of  complaint,  she  toils  all  day  from  six  in 
the  morning  until  late  in  the  evening.  There  is  no  hope  of 
an  eight  hour  law  for  her.  At  nine  in  the  evening,  when 
the  labor  of  the  day  is  supposed  to  be  done,  and  her  chil- 
dren are  in  bed,  she  sits  down  to  the  work  of  making  them 
presentable  for  attendance  at  school  the  next  day.  By 
eleven  o’clock,  she  can  perhaps  retire.  Early  the  next  morn- 
ing, she  is  again  in  her  place,  with  a pleasant  face  for  her 
boarders  and  a smile  and  a kiss  for  her  children.  Putting 
her  trust  in  God  and  denying  herself  every  luxury  and  every 
mere  indulgence,  she  perseveres  in  this  kind  of  life  until  her 
children  have  graduated  from  college.  Something  very  like 
this  has  happened  again  and  again  in  Oberlin.  To  me,  such 
a life  would  seem  to  be  one  of  the  highest  forms  of  human 
excellence.  If  there  ever  was  a more  truly  heroic  character 
than  that  of  a widowed  lady  who  died,  a few  years  since,  on 


i6 


West  College  street,  I have  failed  to  hear  of  it.  I never 
knew  of  her  committing  but  one  sinful  act.  Out  of  her  pov- 
erty, she  once  subscribed  a hundred  dollars  in  aid  of  the 
Second  Church.  Some  one  asked  her  how  she  expected  to 
pay  it.  Lifting  up  her  hands,  worn  with  toil  for  her  chil- 
dren, and  her  neighbors  when  they  needed  it,  she  replied, 
“These  hands  will  help  me  to  raise  the  money.”  Without 
any  Papal  authority,  I have  canonized  this  woman.  If  you 
will  look  into  my  church  almanac,  you  will  see,  entered  op- 
posite to  her  birthday,  her  sainted  Christian  name.  The 
case  is  a homely  one,  and  may  excite  a smile.  It  has  in  it. 
little  of  poetry  or  romance;  but  which  of  us  would  not  give 
“all  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards”  and  all  the  wealth  of  all 
the  Rothschilds  for  the  crown  which  she  wears  to-day.?  In 
my  judgment  there  are  many  persons  who  would  go  to  the 
stake  and  send  up  their  souls  in  flame,  or  die  in  the  shock 
of  battle,  or  appear  respectably  under  some  other  fearful 
ordeal,  who  would  not  have  the  sweet  Christian  steadiness 
required  in  such  a life  as  has  now  been  considered. 

Furthermore,  contentment  in  the  performance  of  common 
duties,  is  not  only  one  of  the  noblest  forms  of  moral  excel- 
lence, but  it  is  that  type  of  character  with  which  every  thing 
that  merits  the  name  of  success  is  better  achieved  than 
with  any  other.  Perhaps  we  need  a new  definition  of  suc- 
cess. Disinterestedness  is  success;  integrity  is  success;  Chris- 
tian fortitude  is  success;  a strong  and  noble  manhood  is  suc- 
cess; a healthy,  steady  and  solid  growth  is  success;  patient 
continuance  in  well  doing  is  success;  at  least,  as  Paul  shows 
us,  it  is  the  right  road  by  which  to  seek  “glory  and  honor  and 
immortalit}^,”  and  these  are  success.  And  all  these  qualities 
are  attributes  of  the  virtue  of  which  I am  speaking.  The 
contented  man  cannot  fail  of  his  reward,  for  his  reward  is 
found  in  the  good  which  he  imparts.  Besides,  as  he  is  self- 
poised,  as  he  holds  himself  well  in  hand,  as  he  reduces  fric- 
tion with  his  fellows  to  a minimum  through  unselfishness,  he 


7 


is  in  the  best  condition  to  obtain  whatever  he  ought  to  have 
and  whatever  is  good  for  him.  His  type  of  character  is  a 
natural  basis  for  all  real  success.  Say  what  you  will,  all 
good  things  have  an  affinity  for  such  a man,  and  do  tend 
toward  him;  and  his  fellow  men,  to  a considerable  extent, 
feel  the  suitableness  of  this,  and  help  it  forward.  The  way 
opens  for  him  to  every  accession  of  fortune  which  is  really 
desirable.  This  law  of  moral  government  and  doctrine  of 
the  Scriptures  is  well  stated  by  Emerson: — 

“Laurel  crowns  cleave  to  deserts, 

And  power  to  him  who  power  exerts. 

Hast  not  thy  share  ? On  winged  feet, 

/■  Lo  ! it  rushes  thee  to  meet; 

And  all  that  Nature  made  thy  own, 

Floating  in  air  or  pent  in  stone. 

Will  rive  the  hills  and  swim  the  sea. 

And,  like  thy  shadow,  follow  thee.” 

You  all  remember  that  Carlyle,  in  many  places,  commends 
the  manly  performance  of  present  duty  as  the  true  road  to 
victory. 

“Yes,  here,”  says  he,  “in  this  poor,  miserable,  hampered, 
despicable'actual,  wherein  thou  even  now  standest,  here,  or 
nowhere,  is  thy  ideal:  work  it  out  therefrom;  and  working, 
believe,  live,  be  free.  Fool!  the  ideal  is  in  thyself,  the  im- 
pediment too  is  in  thyself:  thy  condition  is  but  the  stuff 
thou  art  to  shape  that  same  ideal  out  of : what  matters 
whether  such  stuff  be  of  this  sort  or  that,  so  the  form  thou 
givest  it  be  heroic,  be  poetic.  O thou  that  pinest  in  the  im- 
prisonment of  the  actual,  and  criest  bitterly  to  the  gods  for 
a kingdom  wherein  to  rule  and  create,  know  this  of  a truth, 
the  thing  thou  seekest  is  already  within  thee,  here  or  no- 
where, couldst  thou  only  see.” 

A gentleman  who  is  an  alumnus  of  Oberlin  College,  who 
was  an  officer  of  distinction  in  our  civil  war,  was  a member 
of  the  cabinet  of  one  of  our  Presidents,  was  Governor  of 
Ohio,  and  has  filled  many  other  responsible  trusts,  in  all  of 


i8 


which  he  is  believed  to  have  done  good  work,  told  my  fam- 
ily that  he  once  went  into  a Northwestern  state  to  visit  a 
classmate,  also  an  alumnus  of  Oberlin,  who  was  preaching 
the  Gospel  in  a humble  and  retired  parish.  He  said,  “When 
I saw  the  work  which  my  friend  had  done  for  that  parish 
and  the  spirit  in  which  he  had  done  it,  it  made  all  the  work 
and  all  the  honors  of  public  life  seem  poor  in  the  compari- 
son.” He  felt  that  the  life  of  that  minister  was  a noble  suc- 
cess. That  preacher  has  since  been  called  to  a wider  and 
more  conspicuous  field  of  usefulness,  and  one  of  his  sons 
has  achieved  distinction  and  marked  success  in  his  profes- 
sion. But  the  father  goes  on  doing  his  work  with  the  same 
unpretentious,  contented  and  loving  spirit  which  he  ex- 
hibited when  a humble  pastor. 

For  forty-seven  years  I have  known  one  life  which  has 
seemed  to  me  to  be  an  ideal  one  as  regards  both  success 
achieved  and  contentment  in  the  performance  of  common 
duties.  I have  hesitated,  for  reasons  of  delicacy,  about 
speaking  of  this  life,  but  it  is  clear  to  me  that  we  ought  not, 
for  such  reasons,  to  be  deprived  of  the  profit  of  a brief  refer- 
ence to  a career  which  is  so  remarkable  and  convincing  an 
illustration  of  the  virtue  of  which  I am  speaking.  The  sub- 
ject of  such  a reference  must  practice  self-denial  in  permit- 
ting it,  as  he  has  practiced  it  in  so  many  other  cases,  for  the 
sake  of  that  common  welfare  which,  he  has  taught  us,  is 
the  foundation  of  moral  obligation.  For  fifty-seven  years 
this  man  has  been  closely  connected  with  a single  college. 
During  that  period,  he  has  passed  up  through  every  grade 
of  rank, — if  rank  is  the  suitable  word  here, — which  his  col- 
lege had  to  offer,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest.  He  has 
been  successively  self-supporting  student,  graduate,  tutor, 
professor,  trustee,  president.  If  the  college  did  not  give 
him  more  of  position  and  emolument,  it  was  because  it  had 
not  more  to  give.  Every  expression  of  esteem  and  of  con- 
fidence which  it  was  possible  for  his  associates  of  the  faculty 


9 


and  of  the  trustees  to  bestow  upon  him,  they  heartily  be- 
stowed; and  when  he  reached  an  age  which  suggested  the 
thought  of  retiring  from  his  more  laborious  duties,  his  chil- 
dren— the  pupils  whom  he  had  taught — rose  up  and  called 
him  blessed.  As  an  expression  of  their  affectionate  admira- 
tion, and  anticipating  what,  but  for  their  act,  the  college 
would  certainly  have  done,  they  united  in  making  a provis- 
ion which  secured  to  him  a dignified  and  comfortable  old 
age.  This  would  seem  like  a successful  life.  But  there  is 
more  and  better  to  be  added.  His  work  as  a teacher,  dur- 
ing the  fifty-two  years  of  its  continuance,  has  been  such, 
both  as  to  its  quantity  and  quality,  that  I doubt  whether  it 
has  a parallel  in  the  case  of  any  other  man  in  the  country. 
If  I were  asked  to-day  what  is  the  most  successful  life  that 
I have  ever  known,  I should  hesitate  long  before  I should 
name  any  other  than  that  which  has  now  been  described. 
But  the  practical  question  for  us  is,  how  was  this  success 
achieved.  I answer,  it  was  achieved  on  the  principle  that 
whosoever  will  lose  his  life  shall  find  it — on  the  principle 
that,  if  a corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground  and  die,  it 
bringeth  forth  much  fruit — on  the  principle  of  devoting  all 
to  the  common  good,  and  then  leaving  it  to  God’s  provi- 
dence to  determine  how  much  of  personal  advantage  shall 
be  received  in  return. 

He  cheerfully  undertook  whatever  teaching  the  College 
had  most  difficulty  in  getting  done,  thus  leaving  for  others 
the  work  to  which  inclination  drew  them.  I once  heard  him 
say,  that  he  should  enjoy  teaching  the  alphabet,  on  account 
of  the  satisfaction  which  he  should  feel  in  seeing  the  young 
mind  acquire  knowledge.  What  man  ever  found  him  de- 
pressed and  soured  because  the  world  is  ungrateful.?  What 
man  ever  heard  him  complain  that  his  compensation 
was  not  what  it  ought  to  be.?  Indeed  more  than  once  he 
took  the  lead  in  proposing  a reduction  of  salaries  to  save 
the  college  from  embarrassment.  Who  ever  heard  him  con- 


20 


tending  that  he  had  not  been  advanced  as  rapidly  as  he 
merited,  or  that  his  gifts  were  not  appreciated,  as  they 
should  be,  by  his  colleagues?  When  did  he  ever  strive  or 
cry?  or  cause  his  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  streets?  And  yet, 
the  advanced  positions  for  which  his  tastes  and  natural  en- 
dowments fitted  him,  probably  came  at  just  about  the  times 
when  his  growing  experience  and  ability  had  equipped  him 
for  them  and  made  them  desirable.  This  has  indeed  been  a 
life  of  success,  but  success  which  has  been  reached  by  that 
humble  and,  many  would  think,  hard  road,  the  contented 
performance  of  common  and  present  duties.  I congratulate 
Oberlin  College,  I congratulate  this  great  audience  and  I 
congratulate  these  graduating  classes,  that  Oberlin  has  pro- 
duced such  a man  and  that  we  are  still  permitted  to  have 
him  with  us.  I further  congratulate  you  all  that,  there  are 
now  many  and  growing  indications  that,  in  devotion  to  the 
welfare  of  the  College  and  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  in  disin- 
terested zeal  and  activity,  in  self  forgetfulness  and  self  denial, 
our  former  President  will  have  in  our  new  one,  a worthy 
successor. 

My  young  friends  of  the  Graduating  Classes: — 

It  would  seem  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  subject 
now  presented  has  important  connections  with  your  future 
life  work.  But  it  must  not  be  inferred  from  what  has  been 
said  that  I would  not  have  you  make  an  effort — even  an 
earnest  effort — to  obtain  occupation  suited  to  your  natural 
ability,  your  acquirements,  and  your  tastes.  As  a rule,  to 
seek  such  occupation  is  to  seek  that  in  which  you  can  be 
most  useful.  But  you  may  not  get  this  at  once.  In  excep- 
tional cases,  through  some  disability,  or  other  affliction,  you 
may  not  get  it  at  all.  If  you  find  the  work  which  you  de- 
sire, you  may,  at  first,  obtain  only  the  humbler  and  least 
desirable  parts  of  it.  Then  will  come  the  time  to  learn  in 
whatsoever  state  you  are  therewith  to  be  content.  Then 
will  come  the  time  to  work  on  cheerfully,  leaving  it  to  him 


who  is  “a  Rewarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him,”  to 
bestow  so  much  advancement  in  the  direction  of  your 
wishes  as  is  best  for  you.  If  you  get  but  little  of  the  world, 
you  must  meet  the  disappointment  in  the  spirit  of  Emer- 
son. It  is  said  that  a half-crazed  enthusiast  once  met  him 
at  his  gate  and  called  out  excitedly,  “Mr.  Emerson,  the 
world  is  coming  to  an  end  next  Thursday!”  “Well,”  re- 
plied the  philosopher,  “we  can  dp  without  it.”  We  can  do 
witJioiU  the  woidd.  The  one  precious  thing  in  the  universe 
of  God  is  a loving  heart.  The  odor  which  filled  the  house  at 
Bethany  when  the  alabaster  box  was  broken,  and  the  oint- 
ment was  poured  upon  the  head  of  Jesus,  and  which  has 
filled  the  world  ever  since,  wherever  the  Gospel  has  been 
preached,  was  not,  in  its  deeper  meaning,  the  odor  of  the 
ointment  of  spikenard — very  precious  though  it  was — but 
the  perfume  of  the  unselfish  love  which  made  the  offering. 
Doubtless  there  were  men,  deemed  wise  in  that  day,  who 
thought  Herodias  a successful  woman.  Was  she  not  a 
king’s  wife.^  Such  men  would  think  poorly,  in  comparison, 
of  the  simple,  contented,  domestic  life  of  Mary  of  Bethany. 
In  the  light  of  to-day  we  have  learned  to  put  a different  es- 
timate upon  these  lives;  and  the  fierce  and  searching  light  of 
a day  yet  to  come  will  reveal  the  bottomless  and  impassable 
gulf  that  separates  them  forever.  No,  you  cannot  do  with- 
out the  contented  and  unselfish  heart.  With  this  you  can 
do  without  other  things,  and  even  of  these,  those  which  are 
really  for  your  good  will  certainly  come.  As  you  go  on  in 
life,  you  will  find  the  serenity  and  composure  which  accom- 
pany contentment  in  the  discharge  of  duty,  the  most  favora- 
ble condition  for  healthy  growth  and  increase  of  power. 
You  will  make  progress  by  showing  that  you  are  too  good 
a man  or  woman  for  the  place  which  you  fill.  When  all  men 
say,  “this  man  is  worthy  of  a better  position,”  such  posi- 
tion is  commonly  near  at  hand.  Indeed  contentment  in  the 
performance  of  common  duties  is  the  best  way  to  the  favor 


22 


of  God,  to  the  favor  of  good  men,  to  peace  of  mind,  to  self- 
respect,  to  manly  character  and  to  all  true  success.  Our 
minds  to-day  are  full  of  good  auguries  that  this  truth  will  be 
illustrated  in  your  history.  This  occasion  is,  in  some  re- 
spects, a sad  one  and  yet  it  is  one  of  much  high  hope  and 
proud  satisfaction.  The  benediction  of  all  your  teachers 
rests  upon  you.  I know  not  in  what  better  words  to  give 
you  our  united  blessing  than  the  words  which  the  Lord  com- 
manded Moses  should  be  used  in  blessing  the  children  of 
Israel — Israel,  “whose  children  ye  are,  as  long  as  ye  do 
well  and  are  not  afraid  with  any  amazement”: — 

“The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee  : 

The  Lord  make  his  face  shine  upon  thee,  and  be  gracious 
unto  thee: 

The  Lord  lift  up  his  countenance  upon  thee,  and  give 
thee  peace.” 


